When I was about four years old, my mom and I were living in Oahu. It was a gorgeous island with palm trees, mountains, sandy beaches, and a breeze that carried a wonderful mix of scents: plumerias at every street corner, ripe mangoes, the salty ocean, and sunflowers from a field in Waimanalo. Sunrises and sunsets came and went with their pastel-like hues of purple and pink mixed with yellow and orange. Every day was magical.

One afternoon, we were cruising alongside a mountain in her Jeep with the hood cover down and singing away without a care in the world to a favorite song on the radio. Sometime on that ride, I had turned my head and saw the most magical thing that I had ever seen before.

There were a large clump of clouds in the sky, tucked away together so snuggly, and straight in the middle of it was a hole. Yep, you guessed it. A light ray had broken through.

Filled with awe and wonder, one word came to mind that would change the way that I saw light breaking through the clouds for the rest of my life: Jesus.

I was floored. This was it. The time had come. In my four-year-old mind, Jesus was about to float down in that light ray and I would finally get to see Him. “Look at the clouds! Look at the clouds! Doesn’t that mean that Jesus is coming soon?”

Mom had laughed. “No, sweetie, but He is coming very soon.”

Tears filled my eyes with extreme joy and I clasped my little hands together and prayed, “Jesus, come soon! Hurry and come soon!”

Oh, the faith of a child.

Twenty-five years later, I am taken back to that free-spirited, four-year-old, little girl again whenever I see a light ray break through the clouds. A light ray that represents one word: Jesus.

A word that has the power to still my flurried heart and mind when the world persuasively tempts me to keep rushing (Romans 12:2).

A word that gently encourages me to keep running the good race of redemption even when sometimes I am tempted to hole up in discouragement and fear (2 Timothy 4:7).

A word that reminds me that no matter how dark things may get, the Light will always show up and will show up in a cloud with power and great glory — very soon (Luke 21:27-28).

In life, I have realized that growing up is a paradox that means “doing an about turn” (as C.S. Lewis would say in Mere Christianity) and walking back to that heart of a child you once had.

The one who is looks past the worldly noise and is filled with awe and wonder at God’s creation.

The one who is not afraid to jump into grace opportunities and experience joy in midst of pain.

The one who has a soft heart unhardened by life’s heartbreaks and is willing to receive the Kingdom of Heaven.

I admit that this is difficult even for me to do. It’s easy to harden up when life goes awry and sin continually reminds us of heartbreaks, disappointments, and our faults. But by God’s grace, every once in a while, I catch a glimpse of a light ray breaking through the clouds — and that magical moment gently reminds me about that little island girl and the heart for Jesus that she had. Vulnerability replaces protective barriers of fear. Joy replaces anxious moments of “what ifs.” Love breaks through walls of indifference. Awe and wonder outshine terror. And hope nourishes a heart that grieves.

So the question I leave with you is this: do you remember your light ray moment? What was that moment like?

I’d love to hear about it.

Cheers,
Jazzmine Bankston
Vice Principal